Jigsaws and showers

Today has been a jigsaw day; when individual elements of your day just happen to fit together to form a perfect whole. Not that I've been doing much planning, but I popped over to see my new friend this morning because there was talk of a walk along the coast today. 

The sun was shining and the sea, once again, it's customary invitation blue. She had already been in, so after a cup of tea, I had my first dip in three days. The weather hasn't been great - cold wet and windy - but was already redeeming itself. I saluted the fish and navigated gingerly around the urchins, and enjoyed just being in the water. 

After making myself walk ready, we set off. Now, we had checked the forecast and it offered a hopeful 30% chance of rain for an hour. 

Hahaha. 

From the moment we left the village and set off on the coastal path, the torrential showers thought it would be hilarious to play hide and seek. We dotted from one tree to the next, deciding that olive was better than conifer, but fig trees definitely provided the best shelter. 

At one point, the path passed though a chalet park with what should have been a glorious view of the sea. The rain came down so heavily that it was hard to see where the sea stopped and the sky started; islands disappeared and the distant car ferry became a mythical vessel. Even the fish were leaping out of the sea to see what was happening. 

We commandeered a vacant chalet and waited until the shower passed. That was the worst and last, thankfully, and we continued along to the two little villages. By this time we were cold and damp and in need of sustenance so went looking for a place to eat. 

Oh. Out of season in an out of the way place? It meant just one place was open. There were two options on the menu; meat or vegetarian/fish (!). The garlicky calamari with the grilled vegetable was extremely good and washed down with the lemon beer, worthy of Michelin stars. 

My friend is far more assertive than I am, and wondered to the waitress if a ferry or taxi boat could take us home. This would mean that our journey would be agreeably circular. The jigsaw piece fell into place and a tiny ferry would appear shortly to stop at Orebić and then Korčula - for the princely sum of £1.50. 

The journey back up the coast was very pleasant and reminded me what I loved about boats. The thrum of the engine mutes all extraneous sounds, and the hypnotic rise and fall banishes the real world. At Orebić I was reluctant to disembark but couldn't face the inevitable bustle of Korčula. So I said cheerio to my friend, with her boundless energy,  and off I strolled - polako! - just in time for an afternoon nap. Waking later to find that the sun had come out once again.